


Pull the Trigger

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: (but not really), Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Consensual Non-Consent, Death Threats, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, F/M, Gun Kink, Restraints, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Romanticizing toxic shit that is not romantic, Top Jughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: Jughead finds a gun stashed in Betty's dresser. Still. When he questions her about it, he gets a strange vibe that leads to an interesting night.This one gets pretty intense. Everything that happens is enthusiastically consensual, but playing with their dark sides can be explosive.I guess it's technically underage but whatever, they get into way more messed up situations than kinky high school sex in that show. Set during S3 but it doesn't really have a bearing on the story.Written for Kinktober 2018.Prompt: Edgeplay (I went for guns)





	Pull the Trigger

“... Um, Betty?” Jughead furrows his brow at what he’s accidentally discovered, or rather re-discovered, in his girlfriend’s dresser drawer.

“Yeah, Jug, just anything in there is fine.” She’s not really paying attention, pouring her focus into a thick rulebook for a 40 year old game.

“Anything?” He spins around, the pajama pants he was sent for in one hand and the stashed revolver in the other. He stands there a moment, waiting for Betty’s attention, and speaks again when it’s clear he isn’t going to be getting it. “Why do you still have this?” Straight to the point.

“Have what?” She slowly pries her eyes off the text and half-turns in her seat to look. Her mouth drops open and she stammers, searching for an excuse.

“Betty,” he sounds stern. “Don’t lie to me, okay? We’ve come too far.”

So she closes her mouth and nods, though it still takes her a second to work up to it. “I… like having it around.”

“Well that’s generic,” Jughead responds flatly. He tosses the pants at Betty and opens up the cylinder, sighing with relief that the chambers are unloaded. “Does it make you feel safe or something? You know the statistics, Betty.”

Her sigh is more exasperated. “Yeah, Jug, I know the statistics. It’s not… it’s not that, I just like it.” She stands and starts to change, first pulling off her shirt and then going for her bra. It’s casual, basically routine between them at this point, thanks to Jughead never sexualizing it. Juggy rarely sexualizes anything, come to think of it.

“You’re gonna need to give me more than that and I think you know it. Why are you being weird about this?”

“I’m not being weird, Juggy, I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Jughead pushes the cylinder back in place and catches Betty’s eyes lingering on the the gun in his hands. He catches the way she thickly swallows and the faint pink rising on her chest, too. Betty pulls her t-shirt back on and strips out of her pants next.

His mind works quick, especially when it comes to the workings of others’ minds. When Betty reaches for her sweatpants, Jughead takes a step forward. “Stop.”

“What?” She looks confused, but her hand stills.

“Safeword?”

That pink spreads to her face now, her eyes go a bit wide. “... Nancy.”

Jughead licks his lips and a darkness comes over his features. It sends a shiver down Betty’s spine and a pulse of heat between her legs every damn time. “Get on the bed, Betty.” His voice is equally dark, intimidating paired with his demeanor as he takes another step towards her.

“Why should I?” Her voice is quiet and measured as it always is when they start a scene, to show both of them it’s only a game before they really lose themselves to the roles.

He smirks. “Because I said so, and I’m the guy with the gun.”

Defiantly, Betty takes a few slow steps towards her boyfriend, closing the distance between them, and feels him press the barrel to her stomach. The cold metal elicits a tiny moan but she keeps her composure.

That noise comes as a relief, confirming his suspicions and giving him the self-permission he needs to keep going. “Did I stutter, Miss Cooper?”

“Juggy,” she whispers, and then she can’t contain herself. Betty pushes in and kisses her boyfriend, who takes her by the back of the head and drags it out, biting her lips and claiming her mouth the way he learned to in order to take her down. She’s panting by the time he’s through with her and swiftly losing sense to passion.

“That’s it, Betty. That’s my girl,” he purrs, pressing the barrel harder into her skin.

“Make me,” again she whispers, jaw slack and pupils wide with her arousal this time. “Show me your darkness.”

Jughead complies without hesitation, taking Betty’s ponytail tightly in his fist, shoving her towards the bed, and coming up behind her to shove the gun against her back to _encourage_ her to go the rest of the way. 

Betty climbs onto her bed and Jughead momentarily tucks the weapon into his belt so that he can manhandle her. He gets her on her back and pins her down with his body, immobilizing her while he pulls the hidden straps from beneath her mattress. Her wrists safely cuffed in place, Jughead leans down to kiss her. 

Betty turns her head, all part of the game, bait so that he has to take her hard by the jaw and force her still to violate her mouth. After forcing her compliance in a kiss, he slides down her body to cuff her ankles in as well to keep her legs spread.

It isn’t just being helpless that gets her going, in fact that’s the least of it. It’s watching Jughead give into his darkness and being the safe outlet that he can let it out on. She gives up a soft whimper when Juggy takes the gun in hand again and her skin prickles as he presses it to her sternum and _slowly_ drags it down her body.

He watches the fabric of her t-shirt crease beneath the metal, watches the hair on her arms stand on end, watches her hips struggle with restraint to not arch off the bed when he uses his free hand to shove her shirt up and bare her large breasts.

“You get off on this, Betty?” Finally he speaks, and it’s a rush for Betty, because it’s always his words that make these sessions truly mind-blowing. She doesn’t answer yet, she’s not sure how she wants to play this, so he continues. “What am I saying? Of course you do. You’re the one who was keeping this,” he jabs the barrel against her stomach, then continues down. “You had it all planned out. You wanted me to find this tonight. You knew I wouldn’t be able to help myself.”

“N-no, no, Juggy, I didn’t. I completely forgot about it.” She squirms as the revolver brushes between her legs, warming metal pushing against dampening fabric. “What are you doing? You’re the one always saying how dangerous those things are.”

“Oh, yeah, they’re very dangerous.” Jughead uses a pair of fingers to move her panties aside and rubs the barrel between her lips, slicking it up and making Betty gasp. “Sorry, did you have a point there?”

Betty just shakes her head, watching her boyfriend with big eyes, studying the coldness in his features. So he watches her back, pushing the gun inside of her just to see her blush deeper and try to push down, take more.

It makes a deliciously slick sound as he slowly pumps it in and out of her. It’s not particularly thick or long, but that’s not really the point because the physical isn’t what either of them are getting off on right now. He leans over as he fucks her with it and kisses her again until she’s panting and writhing against him, until he’s getting so hard the confinement of his jeans is starting to hurt.

When he sits back up he pulls the revolver away from her cunt and wet thighs to bring it to her lips. He’s looking at her expectantly, and she doesn’t need to be told what to do. She opens up to suck and lick it clean, moaning quietly at the taste of herself. Jughead uses his other hand to open up his belt and pants, tug them down enough for his full length to spring free.

“J-juggy, wait,” she gasps as he pushes against her opening. He stills, eyes darting up to her face and eyebrow arching, telling her this better be good. She hesitates, fear of judgement and a very reasonable fear that this is a bad idea stopping her, but Jughead starting to push inside of her makes it now-or-never, and she spits it out, albeit in only a whisper. 

“Load it.”

Jughead stops again and blinks, processing that. “What?”

“Load it, Juggy. Please. I’ve got bullets in my bedside table.”

He wants to ask why on Earth she keeps them there, but that’s a discussion for later. She’s looking up at him with pleading eyes and she’s so into this, she doesn’t notice and can’t control the subtle rolling of her hips, the begging her body is doing for Jughead’s. His sigh is heavy and familiar, the same one he always gives when he’s moving against his better judgement. He gets off of her, off the bed, and opens up her drawer.

Betty closes her eyes and breathes with an intoxicating blend of relief, satisfaction, and fear. The sound of the cylinder opening, of metal sliding against metal, the click as it's locked back in place, it makes her cunt pulse and the wet spot beneath her grow.

“I only put in one,” he informs her, for the sake of transparency. But when he turns back around and tells her to open her eyes, he spins the cylinder. It makes several revolutions, there’s no way he could keep track of where the bullet wound up.

Betty whimpers with her helpless lust and sucks her arousal-full lower lip between her teeth. “Please,” she breathes, and she doesn’t need to finish the sentiment. Jughead is already getting on top of her again.

He positions himself over her, their chests pressed together and the weapon pressed to her temple. The swollen head of his cock brushes against her small hole again but he pauses there. “Tell me no,” he demands quietly.

She conjures tears easily, surrendering fully to her role now. Betty meets his gaze, her eyes going glassy. “Please, Juggy, please don’t do this. Please, I thought you loved me, why are you doing this?” She blinks and tears fall, one landing on the barrel of the revolver. 

“I do love you, Betty,” his voice is quiet, his tone carrying the same flatness of a sociopath convinced of his own lies. “Don’t you get it? That’s why I have to do this. I’d never do this to someone I didn’t love.” And that's true, he would never bare his soul and play like this with someone he isn’t madly in love with. It just so happens to fit perfectly with the story they’re creating together, where an insane Jughead Jones rapes his beautiful girlfriend at gunpoint as a supposed act of love.

“Juggy, please,” she sobs, closing her eyes now as if she can’t stand to look at him. They fly wide open again when he shoves inside of her, forcing past the tightness of her opening without regard for anything. She only barely stifles the moan the satisfaction of being properly filled gives her.

He isn’t slow or gradual or ramping up at all, he’s just all of a sudden pounding into her, shoving deep and so hard it’s painful. Exactly the way she likes it, even when she’s the one on top. Betty is good at keeping up her act, crying, begging him to stop, squirming and fighting her restraints like she wants to get away from him. But he’s so good at manipulating her body, he’s learned how to force orgasms from her as a purely physical reaction. 

Jughead is using that skill tonight and after the first rockets through her body, she can’t keep it up. The tears come now from relief and surrender, the flood of chemicals lowers her inhibitions even further and she lays there, taking what she’s being given and panting that she’s sorry and that she loves him and that she’ll be his good fuck doll from now on, she’ll never fight it when he wants to use her.

Not that Jughead has ever even thought about sex without a pretty clear prompting from Betty, but he can’t deny that her fantasy is doing something for him too.

He’s getting close to his own release when Betty starts mindlessly babbling about how perfect this is, that she never wants it to end and she wants to be like this forever. And while he isn’t sure if she’s thinking about the sex or the dynamic or just never wanting to have to pretend to be normal again, the dark places of his mind have a solution either way.

Jughead sits up despite the whimper of loss from Betty. His hips find a new angle but they don’t stop, and he presses the revolver to Betty’s lips. With a moan, she opens up and sucks on the barrel. Just like that, she’s close again. “Come for me, Betty,” he encourages. “That’s all you have to do, just come for me and you could get your wish. It could be the last thing you ever feel.”

Betty opens her eyes and she sees more monster than man in this moment. It doesn’t scare her, not in the least, not even for a second. It’s _right_. It’s everything she wants. Betty nods with desperation, sucking the metal Jughead is offering her salvation with.

That response. He can barely hold on, it’s through sheer willpower he manages to keep fucking her and threatening her and not simply dissolving into his own pleasure and bliss. “Come for me, Betty!” He cocks the gun. “Come and I’ll-” He doesn’t get through his thought before Betty is screaming with her lips wrapped around the barrel and arching her hips hard off the bed. Her cunt is squeezing, pulsing, milking him and Jughead is good on his word.

He squeezes the trigger. Despite their noise, the snap of the hammer hitting the firing pin is seems so loud. Betty’s mind goes blank, the bliss and release of orgasm, even the best she’s ever had, has nothing on what she experiences in that moment. 

Jughead shoves in forcefully and grips Betty’s hip bruisingly hard when he pulls the trigger, and his experience isn’t far off from hers. His body is lighting up with pleasure but his psyche is coursing with a rush of power and an unleashing of his darkest self so complete it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, nothing else even compares.

It could be seconds or minutes by the time either of them comes back to their senses again. Jughead regains himself first and pulls the gun from Betty’s mouth. He drops it carelessly to the floor and leans in to kiss her. They lock lips until he can feel his girlfriend starting to come back to him, and then he uncuffs her wrists, pulls himself out of her, and frees her ankles.

She curls up against Jughead as soon as he’s next to her, wrapping an arm and a leg over his body and clinging to him. He manages to get a blanket pulled over them and then just lets them both rest in a peaceful silence for a long while. Jughead swears he can physically feel how happy Betty is and it makes him warm and content inside.

“I love you, Juggy.” She’s the first to speak and her voice is back to soft and sweet and very Betty.

“I love you too,” he says with a smile and punctuates with a kiss to her forehead.

Betty chews on her lip a second as she works up to asking, “What… would you have done? If it had gone off?” She pulls away just enough to be able to get a clear look at her boyfriend’s face.

“You mean if I’d actually killed you?”

She nods.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

She shakes her head.

“If I fed you a bullet, I would’ve fed myself one, too. No way you’re leaving me behind on that adventure, Betty Cooper.”

She smiles softly but she can’t quite tell if Jughead is teasing her. “Seriously, Juggy.”

“Seriously, Betty.” All playfulness fades from his expression and he twists in her arms to look her more directly in the eyes. “If someone kills you, I, personally, will murder them. I’ve thought about that a lot, thanks to this crazy town, and I absolutely mean it. No exceptions if it’s me. And even if it’s not me…” He swallows nervously, afraid of her reaction, but continues, “Even if it’s not me, I’ll be next.”

Betty knows how screwed up she is that she finds that romantic. Intellectually, she knows how sick it is, and she knows how disgusted she would be to hear that from anyone else, about anyone else. But she can’t help how good and right and perfect it makes her feel in this moment.

He smiles at that, he can see on her face that the dark part of her soul is still surface enough that she loves it as much as he does. Jughead kisses her again, softly this time.

"Plus, I mean, that's kinda all Riverdale is missing now, isn't it? A murder-suicide between young lovers from opposite sides of the track?"

She scoffs but she's still smiling. "Don't jinx it. Who knows what's next."

"Mmm, true," he concurs. “But, uh, full disclosure?”

“Hmm?”

Jughead shrugs, very sorry-not-sorry. “I never loaded it.”


End file.
